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“This land belongs to the Kingdom of Steelshire,” I retorted sharply. “So you’re not as free as you think, even if you squat on it.” This got their attention, the group suddenly eying me balefully. “But I’m not demanding money for your stay. I’m merely asking for information. If you don’t comply with this, I will order you out of the kingdom—for good.”
There was a low rumbling of disapproval, but the elder who had held back the smaller warlock rose from his place by the fire and hung his head.
“I will try to answer your questions, Alpha, but be warned, I won’t betray the honor of any warlocks. That’s our code.”
I scoffed. “Is that why no one will tell us where to find ebonleaf amongst you?”
Shameful looks were exchanged among them, but no one answered the question.
“What do you want to know today, Alpha?” he asked gruffly.
“King Lucius.” I almost choked out my father’s name, the sound of it aloud rousing so many negative and forgotten memories in a torrent.
There was another rush of whispers in the group, but the elder held my stare. “What about him?”
“Have you seen him here? In your camp?”
A flutter of titters met my ears.
“King Lucius?” he echoed dubiously. “Here? With us?”
Angrily, I advanced on him, and he cowered back, losing his amused smirk. “Several witnesses have seen him here.”
“Impossible!” another warlock cried from nearby. “We don’t associate with faeries—and certainly not royal faeries.”
“And what would King Lucius be doing here?” the original speaker demanded. “Why wouldn’t he just return to his rightful place in the castle?”
Those were all valid points, and ones I had asked myself, but I held my ground, determined to get to the bottom of what was going on. Maybe the warlocks had started the rumors themselves. They were known for their troublemaking. Their unique magic made trades with faeries inevitable at times, their payment a favor demand which could sometimes come at a steep price.
“Check their caravans,” I ordered the guards. “All of them.”
Aghast, the warlocks watched as the Royal Guards began to search their homes.
“You’re certain you haven’t seen or heard anything about this?” I pressed, my eyes darting through the group. They all stared back at me defiantly, the anger overriding any sense of guilt they might be feeling.
Could this all just be a rumor? A misunderstanding?
My gut told me that something was going on, something I didn’t understand yet, but the more I stared at the nomads, the more I realized that they were as clueless as me about this.
I stepped back and watched as the Royal Guards entered the various dwellings, my chest tightening.Could my father really be hiding in there? Has he been here, amongst the warlocks, all this time?
The confusion was unbearable. Why would he be? How could this be? And why, after seven years, was he only being seen for the first time?
None of this made sense to me in the least.
“There’s no sign of him, Alpha,” the head guard concluded.
I turned back to the warlock I’d been speaking with and stared him straight in the eyes. “If you should chance upon the king, I would be your first notification. Is that clear?”
“Crystal clear, Alpha,” he grumbled.
“Good.”
I waved a hand, gesturing at the group to follow me back to our waiting vehicles. It was time to get back to the castle for Maren’s opening night. And I desperately needed to shower this day off me before that.
Chapter 11
Maren
